


are there still beautiful things?

by currahees



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: M/M, tried to make this soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25589293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/currahees/pseuds/currahees
Summary: sledgefu week, 03: dusk and dawn.ORa soft moment between sledge and snafu, post war.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Comments: 13
Kudos: 15
Collections: Sledgefu Week 2020





	are there still beautiful things?

**Author's Note:**

> not proof read again lmao oops.  
> find me on tumblr, user is speirtons!

A soft hum surrounds them, their dinner plates sat empty in front of them. Neither makes any attempt to move back inside, despite the setting sun and the cool breeze making its way through them.

“We should go inside,” Sledge murmurs, the sounds of the bayou drowning out his words.

Snafu doesn’t respond at first. “Wait until the sun sets,” he replies, eyes trained on the horizon. He feels Sledge’s hand dance over his, before threading their fingers together as they rest their interlocked hand on the table between them. Sledge is moving his thumb across Snafu’s hand, sending shivers down his spine.

There’s a vibrant orange and red that explodes across the sky as the sun sets. Almost as if someone was hand painting the clouds and few remaining sun rays. Snafu steals a glance at Sledge. The setting sun threw an orange glow across his already sun kissed face. His freckles stood out across his nose like a casual dusting of stars in the sky. His hair was fire, auburn embers that sat atop his head. His eyes ablaze, putting the sun to shame.

Sledge turns to look at Snafu, a smile playing on his lips. “What?”

Snafu’s almost embarrassed at first that Sledge caught him staring at him. But then he remembers that they made a promise to each other. No more stolen glances, no more half spoken sentences or forgotten words. “You look beautiful, that’s all,” Snafu shrugs.

Blush erupts across Sledge’s face, the contrast of the red against the orange sunset. Snafu feels himself smiling at Sledge as he tries to control his blush, failing. Gently pulling his hand free of Sledge’s grip, Snafu reaches up and brushes his knuckles against his chin. He can feel the stubble under his fingertips and the small scar to the left of his face. A lifetime ago, it was bruised knuckles and angry mouths. Tonight, it’s soft smiles and calloused hands.

-

Snafu’s always awake first. He jokes that Sledge would sleep through his own funeral and not realise, but it’s true. Sledge wakes up whenever he sees fit on the weekend and almost nothing can get him awake before ten am.

The moon is still making it’s way out of the sky when Snafu wakes, the morning chill still in the air. He sighs, rolling over to face Sledge. Memories of the night before flood his mind, clashing teeth and hipbones in an attempt to feel closer and closer and closer. They could never get close enough. The soft scent of them is still in the room, wrapped up in the stillness of the morning.

Shadows dance across the room as the wind pulls ever so gently on the curtains near the open window. Snafu should get up and close the window, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes the moment of silence to memories Sledge’s face. He does this every morning, knowing that if there are any changes, they’re minuet. A few extra freckles, the faintest new line near his eyes or his mouth. He falls more in love with him every morning.

Sledge stirs slightly and Snafu knows he’s awake. His breathing changes and he opens one eye, blinking against the early morning sun. “How long you been starin’ at me?” He asks, humour in his voice.

Snafu smiles, “not long, I promise.”

“Mmhhhm, I don’t believe you,” Sledge replies, hooking his ankle around Snafu’s and pulling his legs closer to his under the blanket.

Snafu waits a minute to see if Sledge has fallen back asleep. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t, years of waking up next to him has taught Snafu that Sledge usually falls back asleep pretty easily. But Sledge hasn’t fallen back asleep. He moves slowly, pressing his head against Snafu’s chest. “You’re warm,” he mumbles in his half awake state.

“So are you,” Snafu replies, sleeping next to Sledge was like sleeping next to a furnace. Not great in the summer heat, but not anything he’d change either.

“Give me five more minutes, then we’ll get up,” he mumbles, his voice thick with slumber.

Snafu thinks that Sledge can have five more minutes or five more hours if he wanted. In these soft moments in the early dawn he feels most at home.


End file.
